Resident Evil: The Catastrophe Child
by Mog1
Summary: Trevor Moira, a 15 year old sophmore at Lacewing High, has been researching the Racoon City incident for some time now. Linking recent events to his own school, he feels danger is in store for him. And that's just what he wants.
1. Chapter 1: An Unfortunate Chain

**Resident Evil: The Catastrophy Child**

By Mog

Editing and Grammar Check by Chief

_To the reader: I do not own Resident Evil, nor any of the ideas copyrighted by Capcom. I haven't beaten all the RE games, just 2, 4 and Outbreak. I have nearly beat 1, and have played Gaiden, 3, and Veronica. And I have seen a friend play Zero. So please forgive me if some information is incorrect. Just don't flame. If you must correct me, do it nicely, as flaming me will only force my new terrorist weapons on you. And because my wordpad is sucking right now, I have also beaten Dead Aim... Not that anyone liked that one. I have also altered some information to fit my story better.

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**_Chapter 1: An Unfortunate Chain_**

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It was in the paper. Raccoon City was supposedly infected with an outbreak of anthrax or small pox. So the government nuked it for "the good of the nation."

Yet the entire nation could see it was just bullshit. Something had happened in that city, something that destroyed the city itself.

That was only the beginning.

A year later, two cruise ships were deserted and investigated. It was said the ships were raided by pirates. Again, a nation was forced to believe a lie. About three months after that, an entire prison on an island was destroyed. Again, almost nothing was said by the government, causing the nation to become a little edgy. Then, 3 years later, an event transpired that took the whole nation, if not the world, by surprise. The president's daughter had been kidnapped on the way back from the mall. About 33 hours later, she was returned, safe and relatively unharmed, to her father's hands by Leon S. Kennedy, a Secret Service agent who was, strangely enough, employed as a S.T.A.R.S. member the night Raccoon City had been quarantined.

A young teen had been interested in these events ever since he was 11 years old, when the whole mess had started. He had even gone as far as hacking into a local government source to connect to the Raccoon City Police Records. Now 15, he was unaware of the events that had actually happened, but was determined to find out.

His rather slender build and quick reflexes allowed him to demonstrate great physical endurance. He had taken gymnastics previously for 4 years, and practiced with a combat weapon often. When he wasn't hunting info on the unusual, he was playing video games, or composing music on his laptop.

The young man also had a very developed and complicated mind. He could figure out calculations in his head in seconds when it took others a piece of paper and minutes of their time to solve. His gift, for example, enabled him to aim precisely, and calculate the directional path of an object based on the pressure of the air and the vacuums between them. It was also a gift that had gone to waste. Rather than using his genius to assert himself, he used it to give himself more free time.

Now was the time of 10:30; his second block class had started. Trevor Moira, a sophomore at Lacewing High, sat in his desk drawing stylish weapons on a piece of paper and not taking once glance at the teacher. Time seemed to be moving backwards every time he glanced at the clock. The Geometry teacher would sometimes find Trevor off-task and try to surprise him with a question for him to answer. Without missing a beat, Trevor would continue to stare at his drawings and state the answer. Disturbed by his awareness, the Geometry teacher would continue his lecture on the simplest of equations.

Trevor, being the witty kid that he was, was sometimes too witty. His thoughts were so different from the teachers that it scared them. They couldn't see the logic in his ideas because they were so used to thinking in their own way. So almost every time a teacher he'd had previously saw him, said teacher would glance at him and shiver. If Trevor believed something, he would stand for it even if it meant failing. Even so, most of the things Trevor believed in were very logical; the world, however, saw them as pathetic and childlike.

After the sound of freedom rang, he quickly grabbed his belongings and walked to lunch. He walked quickly because he tended to have an impatient personality and could be angered easily. His walks were smooth and equal. He walked this way because it was quicker, and his knees were rather weak from sitting for half a day.

After reaching his destination, he was immediately confronted with a problem. He had left his money in his binder, which was back at his second block class. Cursing himself, he laid down his belongings and walked back to his Geometry class. Another one of Trevor's problems was his forgetfulness.

He walked into the darkened room, and saw his binder. It wasn't where he left it, but instead was near the back of the class by as storage closet. Trevor grabbed the binder and noticed the closet was open. There was a sound, unlike any he had heard before, from within. When he peered inside, he found the closet to be entirely empty. Trevor caught himself giving in to his curiousness, and stopped from wandering inside the room.

He quickly turned and left the class. Terrified by his own thoughts, his imagination. He wanted nothing more than to get out of this school.

He believed that some of the students were very suspicious of his thoughts. Some students stared at him when he worked. He was getting quite paranoid, maybe it was time to find out.

He wanted something to be wrong. He wanted to find that whatever it was. Most of all, he wanted to excite his life. If it were a group of terrorists, have them invade his town of Normanville. If it was a mutation, let his town be mutated. His sick thoughts were only those of him breaking out of life's boring society. A human makes money to support himself and his family, all the extra money goes to enjoyment. The harder you work, the more enjoyment. But the harder you work the less you yourself are capable of enjoying things. One would become pissed at small things that don't matter. The average human overworks, when in fact it has absolutely no value to it.

To average humans, death is a curse. Toying with a curse is something in all human nature. One feels excitement when on the verge of oblivion. The excitement is what brings meaning to the world. To Trevor, the meaning of life is to cheat death, because it would be exciting.

Never, if new what was in store, would he have ever thought that.

If Trevor wanted to find out what was up with everyone, he would have to consult his friend Preston Hugh. Preston wasn't nearly as logical as Trevor, but he did had more booksmarts. He also knew what others were thinking. It was his little secret that he never told anyone, except Trevor. Yet not even Trevor had bothered to practice this art. He called it the Hansel and Grettle method.

"See, the trick is to learn about the subject by picking up subliminal messages. These subliminal messages are random sequences that the subject exposes totally by accident. This trick can be applied to physical references too. Say a subject always swallows before talking. If the subject is calm, then there is a point of comfort. Maybe you bring up a topic and the subject doesn't swallow, then you know the subject isn't comfortable with the topic, even if it still seems relaxed." Preston had once explained. It was very similiar to a police method for interrogation, except Preston analyzed what was said by the subject front and back in his head to see if there was some connection.

This method was practiced by Preston whenever he was around people. Trevor, on the other hand decided not to bother with it. He decided to focus his mind on himself and not others, which is why he was going to Preston for help.

"Hey Preston," Trevor greeted as he set down next to him with his lunch.

"What bring you to these parts?" Preston asked eating his slice of pizza.

"I need your help."

"Well, what can I do for you?"

"I need you to find out what the hell's going on."

"What do you mean?"

"Just look around, everyone's acting different." Trevor said this and looked up and noticed about seven or eight people staring at him. It was very disturbing.

"When did this start?"

"Yesterday afternoon. It's creepy, just today when I went into my Geometry class to get my money, Mr. Millsmore was gone, and there were these... these noises." Trevor rubbed his forehead. "I don't know, I'm probably imagining this, but how can you explain this?"

Trevor showed Preston a drawing of a head on a stick, the head was Trevor.

"Wow, someone sure hates you."

"Try Dustin Lamberd."

"Why him? He's always been nice to you. Weren't you guys best friends at one point?"

"Yeah. In 7th grade, then we kinda downgraded to friends. But why would he hate me? I mean we still hang out every now and then."

"I'll check into it."

"Shit, they're really starting to scare me." More people were randomly staring at Trevor. Then after a moment, they would resume what they were doing.

"Don't worry about it, I'll find out what's going on." Preston took another bite of his pizza.

"Do you know where Spark is?"

"Why do you wanna know?"

"I need him to help me today. I'm going to try and hack into Mr. Millsmore's documents."

"Why so drastic?"

"He's been acting strange."

"Wait till I give you info on the behaviors. If I don't have anything by tomorrow, then you should hack into his comp."

"Alright."

"By the way, Kristi likes you."

"How do you know?" Trevor asked raising an eyebrow. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I just thought you outta know. Every time I mention you she takes a slightly bigger breath and her hands close."

"Well, good to know."

"Hey, whatever you say." Preston laughed taking another bite out of his pizza. Then he looked at Trevor, who looked very disturbed. Everyone in the courtyard was staring right at him. Trevor sat there, switching his eyes between all of the students; he was almost petrified, except for his eyes.

"What the fuck? Are you guys getting paid to stare at him or what?" Preston asked. A couple moments of silence passed before someone broke the chain and everyone resumed talking to one another. "Damn, this is starting to creep me out. Why were they all staring at you?"

"They weren't all staring at me, some were staring at you too." Trevor whispered.

"This is too weird."

"Tell me about it. It's almost as if they were in a sort of trance."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, no one was blinking."

"Well, when someone stares at you they normally don't blink."

"When someone's staring at you, do they blink when a fly lands on their eye?"

"Your saying a fly landed on someone's eye?"

"Yes, and he didn't even flinch. It made me feel sick."

"I say we get the hell outta here. I seriously think everyone is just playing on big, fucked up joke or something." Preston took a deep breathe. "Hey, I gotta go take a makeup test, talk to Kristi will you?"

"Why?"

"She's really concerned about you. You know, she likes you, what else does there have to be?"

"Alright, she's probably in the theatre. I'll head there now."

"Remember, if something happens, you can always depend on me."

"Alright. Let's just hope this is one sick joke and not something... well"

"Something like a bloody massacre?"

"Let's go with that one," Trevor concluded. Preston then turned and walked to make up his test. Trevor went to the theatre, hoping that Kristi might know something.

Everyone stared at him as he walked towards the theatre an away from the courtyard. He looked behind him, about forty eyes were fixed on him, and no one said one word as long as he was in earshot.


	2. Chapter 2: Strange Happenings

_Disclaimer: I am allowed to use anything copyrighted such as book titles or movie titles because I am not making any money from this story. So don't flame me about copyrighted issues._

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_**Chapter 2: Strange Happenings**_

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Kristi was sitting against the wall reading a book entitled Eaters of the Dead. She looked beautiful. She had short black hair, brown eyes, a nice figure, and, to top it all off, she was intelligent. She could understand what people were saying: she never had to ask twice, or state what she'd said earlier. She knew how to speak in the common, less sophisticated manner of talking to another being, and yet she also knew how to carry out a very intellectual conversation with another person. She was, in every way, a perfect socialist.

Trevor had some ability to do the same, yet he seemed to like the peasant way of talking as opposed to the higher, more royal way. He hated the sophistication people had created, and loved to ponder around in the lower class. Trevor wasn't a good socialist, but only because he never practiced the sport.

Trevor sat down next to her. Looked at the book for a minute, and then at her.

"Hello Trevor." She only looked at the book. She looked a little nervous.

"Hello Kristi," said Trevor. "I see you're reading one of Michael Crichton's books. Wondeful book; wonderful author too, but I never can stand the first hundred pages or so."

"Really? Me neither, they're just too boring," Kristi said, giving him a smile before continuing to read. There was a moment of silence.

"May I ask you something?" Trevor asked. Kristi put the book face-down on her lap. She finally looked a Trevor, eyebrows raised— was he going to ask her what she thought he was going to ask her?

"Why is everyone staring at us?"

Oh. "That's just what I was about to ask you."

"It's kinda creepy."

"I was hoping you would know what's going on."

"Let's go somewhere else; I don't feel safe right now."

"All right." Trevor stood up and offered his hand to Kristi's. He helped her up and they walked out the theatre door and onto the grassy fields on the west side. When they found a spot that wasn't in earshot of anyone they sat down.

"So, what's going on?" asked Kristi.

"Well, since yesterday, people have been acting strange. Some will stare at me for a minute or too, and then resume what they were doing as if nothing happened. The same thing with Preston; I just think he hasn't noticed it because he's always writing."

"Maybe I haven't noticed it because I've been reading." Kristi said. Then the theatre door opened, and out walked a young man with red hair, with a red goatee. He was rather tall, and looked around the field until he spotted the two. He then walked over; when he was about three feet from them he started to talk— he sounded a little rattled.

"Can one of you tell me what the hell's goin' on?"

"Spark, what happened?" Kristi asked.

"Well, everyone's staring at me like I have three eyes or something— It's scaring the shit outta me!"

"The same thing's been happening to Kristi and me. Preston just started to notice it too," Trevor added. Spark sat down next to them.

"Trevor, you don't think this has anything to do with your work? I mean, maybe what ever happened in Raccoon City is happening now," Spark conjured.

"I haven't thought of that. Maybe, but that would mean the government would be stepping in." Trevor pulled out a laptop. "Spark, can you help me hack into Mr. Millsmore's computer? I think he might have some documents or something that may be a clue."

"Why Mr. Millsmore? What does he have to do with it?"

"It's just a hunch."

"Aren't you guys acting a little drastic? What if you get caught?"

"Do you wanna find out what's going on or not?" Trevor asked.

"Well yeah, but I just think you're being kind of paranoid. It's probably nothing."

"Nothing? How is everyone you walk by staring at you nothing?" Spark asked. A teacher then walked out of the theatre.

"Mr. Jones, the principal wants you in his office now," he said.

"What did I do?"

"Don't question me! Just get in there!"

"All right." Spark got up and left for the principal's office. As the teacher walked back into the theatre, Spark doubled back "We'll hack into his comp tomorrow, then," he said.

"Okay. If you see Preston, send him this way."

"No problem." Spark then left the two. Walking off to the office, probably for a crime he didn't commit.

"Trevor, what the hell is going on? I just don't know. What happened in the hall was so… queer. It almost felt like a bad dream." Kristi had a very scared look on her face.

"I think why we're scared is because of the events that took our nation into a state of confusion. I mean, we still don't know why Ashley Graham was even kidnapped. All I know is that some man by the name of Jack Krauser was reported dead the same time Ashley was returned. Jack worked with Leon in a covert ops mission prior Ashley's kidnapping." Trevor typed something on his laptop. After a couple moments Trevor had a confused look on his face.

"What? What is it?"

"According to this, Jack Krauser was said to have been working for a man named Albert Wesker."

"What's so important about him?"

"Well, he was the captain of the Raccoon City S.T.A.R.S. chapter."

"Isn't that the program Leon Kennedy was hired to the night of the quarantine?"

"No, he was just RPD."

"Oh. Wesker, though… is he still alive?"

"Doesn't say. It says that he might be connected to the Raccoon City incident, and a seperate incident where a prison was destroyed."

"Is there anything else?"

"Well it says here that he had, in the past, changed his name over three times, and they suspect he is under a new alias."

"What were his past names?"

"Well, let's see… Adrian Courts, Hugh Rey, and Howard Stines."

"Hmm, never heard of them," Kristi said looking at her shoes. Then, a noise sounded from behind them. Both turned to see Preston, crouched behind them. He was breathing heavily.

"Preston, how was the test?" Trevor asked, closing his laptop.

"Horrible! I got sent to the office. That's not even the worst part. I was talking to the principal, and I couldn't even understand his terms. He wanted me to get suspended. He also mentioned you two and Spark. I started to protest and he called in the nurse. He said something about being outta control. Then the nurse walked in with a syringe with some yellow liquid."

"What? They can't do that!" said Kristi, now looking quite panicky. "It's against school code—"

"— to inject anything into a child unless it's prescribed. I know, and I stated that. The principal just laughed, and the nurse grabbed my arm and I kicked back and ran. I had to hide for a couple minutes to lose security."

"Wait, he said he mentioned me, Trevor, and Spark?"

"Yes."

"That's not good. Spark left to go to the principal's about three minutes ago."

"Shit." Preston said quietly. "You don't think—"

"Yes, if he mentioned him also being outta control I'm pretty sure he's going to get that same shot."

All three of them immediately stood, leaving their stuff behind. They then ran toward the office

"You know, I've never heard of a yellow sedative before." Kristi stated while they ran.

"It wasn't, I saw something like a small white speck in there. I thought it looked like an egg."


	3. Chapter 3: A False Alarm

_Authors note: to anyone who remembers this story-- a thousand apologies. I completely forgot about this story after a long composers block. However, new ideas have just swarmed into view, and you shall get your wish._

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_**Chapter 3: A False Alarm**_

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Sparks was sitting in the principals office, chewing on the end of his tongue. He had been in here several times before, most of the times he were reprimanded for telling off a teacher, or provoking a fight. However, today was different. The air was thick with sweat, and a strange smell that burned his nostrils. The nurse, who had told him to wait quietly in the office, was holding an icepack to one of her shins.

Something bad has happened in here. That would explain it. But what? Had a fight broken out between two students. The nurse being injured in the process? Or maybe someone's elaborate escape involving a few odd smelling smoke bombs and a well placed shin kick?

This thought made him chuckle. No, that would be too heroic. Something like that would be legendary-- and he of course would have been the one performing it.

He sat in what seemed like forty days of silence, until finally the door opened. Turning his head, he could see the nurse entering with a very large needle. It had a strange colored liquid in it-- and it did not look like pumpkin juice. He jumped out of his chair and raised his fists. He wasn't going to be stuck with a needle-- not if he could help it.

"Come down, boy!" Barked the nurse. "This isn't for you! It's for another student."

"Oh yeah? What's in it?"

"A prescription, though I can hardly see it as any of your business!" She left the needle on the principals desk and exited. Odd though the situation were, Sparks felt glad that he wasn't getting jabbed with that needle. He loathed needles.

He eased back into his chair, and began biting his tongue. What did Principal Chuck want with him? He hadn't done anything since he hacked into the scoreboard(he had made it say Principal UpChuck every time he was mentioned). Maybe this was to trick him into revealing anything he was planning to do. Sure enough, the principle walked through his doors the moment he thought this.

"Ah, Mr. Jones."

"Principle Chuck."

"I take it you know why you're here?"

"No, I'm not."

"Oh, don't play dumb with me. I know precisely what you've been doing." As the principal said this, he sat down and stared into his opponent. He had no idea if it was Sparks, but he though he could lure him into a trap-- corner him. It didn't seem to work.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I see." Principal Chuck looked extremely determined. "Well, you mean to tell me that you have not rallied everyone in the school into staring at me while I walk through the halls. Or when I walk to and from the bathroom? Or when I receive my lunch from the cafeteria?"

So it wasn't just him and his friends. It was the principal as well. What had gotten into the school? Well, now it was clear the they were on the same side.

"It hasn't just been you, sir," he said staring at the window. "It's been me too, and Trevor, Preston, and Kristi. The principal merely laughed.

"And why is it that they would be staring at you? Have you done something to offend them?"

"Why no, sir, I--"

"I know what you are doing, 'Sparks'. Oh yes, I know you're hacker, and I know your nickname. You are turning my school against me. Fighting a cold war. You are using passive ways to attack me, to get to me. I must say I am highly impressed. You finally found a way to attempt to hurt me without breaking rules. Well, that's what _you_ think anyways." The principle gave a sickly grin. "You see, there are many ways in which I can punish you without evidence or proof. And absolutely nothing you can do about it, 'Sparks'. You see, two sides can participate in a cold war."

Sparks looked directly into the principals eyes. He could see the malice behind them. Then, his opponent spoke, "We will be seeing a lot more of each other, Mr. Jones."

Sparks opened his mouth to say something, but someone else had done it for him. Three people, to be exact.

"Get out of there!" "Sparks, run!" "There's something in the needle!"

The door burst open, and three bodies cam toppling into the room. The principal, if he was surprised, was hiding it well. Trevor, Preston, and Kristi all stood before the principal's desk, breathing as though they had just sprinted a marathon.

"I see your friends here are also in on it," Principal Chuck said grinning. He put his fingers together with his elbows on his desk. "For this blatant disregard of authority, you and your friends can spend the weekend together in detention. And should this behavior continue, you can expect there to be much more in store."

Sparks looked ready to spit, but resisted the urge to. Instead he looked at his friends for defense, but they were looking at him very strangely.

"Did he stick anything in you?" Preston asked.

"What?"

"I believe Mr. Hugh is under the impression that I may have given you his prescribed medication," Principal Chuck seemed completely amused.

"_My _medication? Are you crazy? Since when have I needed medication?" Preston demanded.

"Ah yes, well your mother has sent me this doctors note, I think you find everything in order." He handed Preston a pink piece of paper. Sure enough, it was a medication prescribed by his doctor and signed by his mother. However, the paper failed to inform him of what exactly the medication was supposed to do.

"Why didn't you show this to me before you tried to shove it into my arm?" Asked Preston, turning a shade of red.

"Well I was under the impression that you knew you were to receive medication. Obviously, I was wrong."

"Excuse me, but what's in stat syringe?" Started Kristi. "The paper fails to mention what's in--"

"_That_, girl, is none of your business!" Snapped Principal Chuck. Preston took to her defense.

"But it is _my_ business! I want to know what's in that!" Preston demanded. The principal merely shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but I do not know what your medications are Preston. This is one of the blessings of our school; privacy. I'm sure if you wanted to know your mother would be more than willing to tell you." Spark thought he saw a fraction of a smile escape from Principal Chuck's face.

"Now, you will take your medications, and I implore you to do it quietly. As for the rest of you, get out of my office. All four of you will serve detentions on Saturday, from nine to three. Any questions?"

No one spoke.

"Good, no get back to class. You're late, and I will not be writing you tardy excuses."

When Principal Chuck was out of earshot, the three began discussing what had just happened. Kristi seemed to take a neutral approach, while Trevor was certain that something malevolent was taking place. Sparks was extremely upset; his friends had just landed him detention just because Sparks was suspected in this silent rebellion. He decided to tell the others what had happened in the office.

"Well, it's not just him, it's us too. They've been staring at us all day. Yet he still won't side with us?"

"Nope. Hey, why don't we skip class and go to The Den? We need to escape these freaks who keep staring at us anyways," Sparks was referring to their hiding place whenever they were skipping class, or doing something less legal than they should be. The others seemed to agree.

They made their way around the cafeteria and through an alleyway between the gymnasium and the science building. They finally descended a set of stairs and went through an old door with 'JAN T R" in rusty lettering on the plating. Sparks pulled out a credit card and pushed the deadbolt lock apart(after several failed attempts) and the three slid in the open door way. The room was murky and pitch black. Finally, one of them found a chain and gave it a tug. The room was suddenly illuminated.

Posters, magazines, newspapers, and paintings laced the walls like wallpaper. Old, worn furniture lined the room, and there were several televisions with video game consoles attached. Over one of the dirty, blue couches was a blown up photograph of five teenagers. Three were in the room, though a couple years older. The other was Preston, and the other was a handsome, charming male. Under the photograph was a piece of old, yet beautifully decorated piece of paper.

_Trevor, Sparks, Preston, Kristi and Dragon-- original founders of 'The Den'_

Sparks flopped down on an ugly green sofa, while Trevor sat next to Kristi on the blue one. They seemed to be enjoying the solitude, and the separation from those dull, unblinking eyes seem to calm their nerves a bit. Just as Sparks started to dose off, a shrill, high pitched alarm sounded in the distance. It was a fire drill. However, as quickly as it sounded, it ended. Then a few moments later a voice sounded over the intercom. The Den's was so busted, that they could only hear it in the distance.

"False alarm students. No need to worry. A message to the teachers. If you see Preston Hugh, please send him to my office immediately."

The three Den dwellers exchanged glances.

"Reckon he didn't get his shot?" Trevor smirked.

"Knowing Preston, he probably gave it to someone else." Sparks started. Then he got up and moved towards the door.

"Where you going?" Asked Kristi.

"To help him of course. You two stay here, we'll be back-- and we may not have time to fidget with the deadbolt." Then he left the room, leaving Trevor and Kristi alone on the sofa.

He could feel fidget, and he knew why. However, before he could try and talk to her, a loud thump came from behind a door to their right.

Of all the time spent in the Den, none of them ever managed to get this door open, and no one had a clue what was behind it-- except for Dragon. Every now and then they could hear an unnatural noise behind it. Though rare, it sometimes spooked them into leaving. One day, Dragon had managed to get behind the door, but something had frightened him so violently that he couldn't recount what he saw. The next few days he hardly spoke to anyone. Eventually, his family moved and they never heard from Dragon again.

However, Trevor passed the sound off as someone in the building above the Den.

He looked back over at Kristi. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Why was talking to girls so much harder when there was an attraction between them? Finally, he was ready to say what he wanted to say.

"Kristi, listen. I don't know exactly if this is going to come out right," he started. She seemed to be very intent on catching every word he said. "But I want you to know that you mean a lot--"

There was a loud crash on the outside door. Then voices rang through it.

"Open up! Hurry!"

Scrambling to their feet, Trevor knocked Kristi flat onto the couch. He flung himself at the door and unbolted it. Two bodies came crashing through, and then the door slammed shot and bolted itself.

"Think they saw where we hid?" Asked Preston.

"No, but they know we're in the area." Sparks said wiping off his jeans. Trevor got to his feet and then realized that he had knocked Kristi down. He hurried back over to her and apologized. She smiled and pulled him close to her and whispered, "Tell me later."

He was glad that she had caught on to what he was going to tell her, but he wish that they wouldn't have been interrupted. Preston however, deciphered the situation immediately.

"Sorry to bother you two, but we had to find a safe haven."

"That's okay. Did they give you the shot?" Asked Trevor.

"Well, yes and no. They had stuck it in and injected a little bit, but then I smacked the nurse and she recoiled. The liquid felt extremely hot to the touch, most of my retaliation was out of sheer pain. I'd say I got less than a teaspoon of it." He looked at his arm, it looked as if he had been slapped on his bicep multiple times. "Anyways, I pressed the fire alarm and bolted for it. Then I ran into Sparks, and he helped me escape here."

"Quite a story. But now I'm on the schools wanted list," added Sparks. He flopped back down onto the green couch. Preston took a lazy boy chair and pulled up a leg stool. They sat in silence. Trevor want to put his arm around Kristi, but decided against it. After a short while Sparks started to snore, and Preston decided to play on one of the video consoles.

Suddenly, everything was interrupted when there was a loud crash. It came from behind the outside door.

"Think they're in here?"

"I don't know, but we'll have to get a deadbolt opener. I think a janitor might have one."

The inhabitants of the den shot panicked glances to each other. Suddenly, they were racing to hide the electronics in boxes lying around the place. Trevor had taken down the pictures of the five, and the decorated paper. When they finished hiding the evidence that this was a frequent hide-away, they turned to the door which had only been opened once.

"No, remember what happened to Dragon?" Kristi questioned.

"Of course I do! But what other choice have we got?" Sparks looked extremely determined as he grabbed a crowbar lying near the boxes and started prying the door open. It was slowing giving way, and by the time he it halfway open they heard voices outside again.

"Ya want me to open this?" Said a scruffy old voice. Trevor recognized that voice immediately. It was the Jared, the janitor. He had discovered them hiding in the Den one day, and promised not to give them away as long as he got to take his breaks in here. "Ain't no one's gonna get in there, 'less they got a deadbolt opener."

"Yes, and you've got one!"

"Uh, yeah. But who else walks around with a dead bolt opener in their pockets, eh?"

"Just open the damn door, Jared!" Shouted an agitated voice. Just then, Sparks succeeded in prying the door open. A gust of foul smelling, icy air brushed over them. Trevor had to control himself not to gag.

"S'okay! Ya don't have to yell. Just to let ya know, I take my breaks in here." He said as he was fiddling with the deadbolt. There was no time, the four piled through the open door, and Sparks shut the door, and locked it-- just in time.

"See, ain't no one in here. I told ya. Ya can't get through if you--"

"Okay, thank you Jared! Come on, he's got to be somewhere else." The voices then trailed off and they heard the front door close.

"Ouch!" Shouted Preston's voice. "I think I cut myself against some glass."

"I think this is a light switch." Suddenly, a blinding, bright light filled the room. When their eyes adjusted, no one blinked, or moved.

It was the most horrible thing they had ever laid eyes on.


	4. Chapter 4: Dragon's Warning

* * *

Chapter 4: Dragon's Warning

* * *

Trevor stood in complete silence before the most gruesome scene that not even a 'blood and guts' movie could pull off. The smell was sickening, and his eyes burned with the putrid air about the room. Entrails were strewn across the room like ribbon paper-- which were still attached to bodies lying on several rotting, wood tables. The blood was far past coagulation and was now in a state of crusting. The flesh was still rotting, and several bones were protruding from several of the bodies.

What interested Trevor the most, however, was the absence of flies or maggots.

It wasn't until he heard the sound of Kristi vomiting that he was aware that the situation was real. Trying to block out the vile smell, he helped Kristi regain her composure. Sparks was already trying to get through the door again.

Preston, however, was inspecting the bodies. He looked like an amateur coroner; he had even picked up a metal spike and was separating parts of flesh. While Trevor probably had the stomach for whatever Preston was doing, he decided to devote himself to Kristi's recovery. She seemed intent to face anywhere that did not have blood on the walls or floor. Trevor joined her.

Despite having decorations suitable for Sweeny Todd's barber shop, the room was incredibly bare. The only tables were covered in heaps of dead flesh, and the only other furnishing was an incredibly old work desk with a rusty typewriter atop it. Trevor grabbed Kristi's arm, hoping inspecting the desk would keep her from vomiting again.

The work desk was, contrary to the rest of the room, quite organized and clean. Several faded papers were spread across the desk, and the typewriter sat in the corner of the desk, and, despite the patches of rust, looked beautifully crafted. Kristi was the first to notice the paper in the typewriter.

"What's this? It looks like someone left their paper in the typewriter," she concluded while attempting to remove the paper. With a forceful tug she extracted the paper from the machine. "Oh my god, it's a note from Dragon!"

Preston and Sparks stopped what they were doing and walked over to Kristy. The three boys peered over her shoulder and read the paper.

* * *

I am Dragon. If you're reading this, I advise you to leave this horrid place and forget it ever existed. However, if you are already in too deep, or if the door is stuck, than please continue to read.

This b4sement used to be the old science halls. When this school was a college, this used to be the anatomy room. I have no idea why there were b0dies still in this room, but something ripped them to shreds. I have b3en fortunate enough not to encounter this 'thing' yet. However, it is my b3lief that it is not some small scavenger or some lost dog. The reason I am writing this note is to warn those ab0ut to enter the lower sections. I advise you NOT to enter there, I cannot count the number of times I vomited. I will attempt to open the door one last time, before I lose my mind.

3R2L 1S2R Don't Open, Please. 1L2S 1S2R Close always, thanks.

You sometimes lose me, yet I am always in the same place.

BLU + RED WFD

Please,

Say,

You're,

Craving,

Or,

Starving,

I am not Dragon.

* * *

That was the end of the text. The four looked to each other for an answer, yet no one had one. It was unlike Dragon to ramble on about nothing, let alone think in such nonsense.

"What do you think he was trying to tell us?" Asked Kristi. She seemed very frightened.

"That he was fucking crazy!" Shouted Sparks. "I mean, none of this makes any sense!"

"Sure it does. In fact, I believe Dragon was in his right mind when wrote this," Trevor stated, countering Sparks' loud thought.

"I agree, in fact, it would explain why he didn't want to talk about this place when we saw him," said Preston.

"It was because he lost his mind, didn't you just read?" Asked Sparks.

"Crazy people don't know they're crazy, and Dragon seemed to know exactly what was happening to him" Kristi answered. "Does anyone remember how long Dragon was actually in here for?"

"He said he was only in here for a couple of minutes," said Sparks.

"But we can't trust what he said, not after he was in the room," said Trevor

"Why not?" Kristi and Sparks asked together.

Preston answered. "Because his final words are 'I am not Dragon'. I believe he was telling us that he is no longer himself."

"Than what does the rest of it mean?"

"Well, if I had to guess, I would say puzzles. Possibly to the access codes of a lockbox, or where a key is hidden or something."

"But why go through this charade? Why not just say, the key is under the mat?" Again, it was Sparks who seemed to not be catching on. "I mean, you only have to solve these kind of puzzles to achieve a goal in video games. But in real life, we don't have to leave secret codes to tell people where something is."

"Unless something was preventing him from doing so." Trevor added. "Think about it for a moment. What if he couldn't just say where something was? How could he ensure that someone would find whatever it is encoded in this piece of paper if he can't just blatantly say so?"

"He would have to encode it, and do so in a way that would allow him to give us the answer, but still fool whatever it is preventing him from relaying the information to us." Kristi answered. "If he were, let's say, held at gunpoint when he was writing his 'last will', but he would be shot if he stated in his will who the man's identity is, so he encoded it, thus fooling the gunman into thinking he's just crazy."

"Right, except we saw Dragon with our own eyes. He definitely did not have any extra holes in him." Sparks joked, but no one laughed(perhaps due to the gruesome scenery). "Anyways, what else could cause him to have to encode information?"

"Well, we've already deciphered that he knows he's losing his mind. But crazy people don't know they're crazy…" Preston contradicted himself.

Something in Trevor's mind clicked, despite it sounding completely ludicrous. "Someone was gaining control over his mind."

The others simply stared at him. He had to admit, it did sound completely insane. "I know, it's crazy. But think about it. He's losing his mind, yet he's not crazy because he knows he is. Even at the end, he has enough common sense to tell us that he is no longer the 'normal Dragon' anymore. Perhaps the person controlling him felt it unnecessary to manipulate him when he was thinking in encoded terms."

The others continued to stare. Kristi spoke first. "But how is it possible to control someone's mind? I think all of us here don't believe in any spiritual theories."

Trevor agreed. But they couldn't deny that his theory logically made sense. If Dragon had had his mind controlled, it would also explain his unusual behavior when he left.

The sound of the afternoon bell rang outside as if it were a mile away. Everyone finally became aware of their surroundings again, and Sparks hurried to reopen the jammed door. He got the door open on the first attempt this time, and everyone hurried to exit the horrifying room. Kristi reached into her pocket and pulled out some gum, and started to chew a piece.

"To get rid of the vomit taste," she said meagerly. Preston and Sparks laughed.

"I'm gonna head home and wake up tomorrow, and play this memory off as a weird dream." Sparks said as he left the Den. Kristi and Preston agreed. Trevor however, was still curious about what happened to Dragon, and continued to hold the note from him.

"Well, I'm off to have a chat to with my mother about a medication she never told me I was taking." Preston said as he left. Kristi, however, waited for Trevor.

"So, about what you were going to tell me earlier?" Kristi said blushing. Trevor didn't even hesitate, he pulled her in for a fresh-spearmint-kiss. It was awkwardly romantic, but enjoyable, and it even made him forget about the horrid sights he just witnessed.

"That's more or less what I wanted to say." He smirked. She walked out of the room holding his hand.

"You'll have to tell me again tomorrow. This is supposed to be a 'bad' dream, remember?"


End file.
